An honest story about moving, missing, and making it work.

Moving to a new country sounds like a dream. A fresh start, new adventures, sunshine and the chance to reinvent yourself. But what we often forget is that moving to something new also means saying goodbye to everything old. Your friends. Your family. Your habits. Your routines. Even your language.

Starting over is exciting. It’s that feeling of total freedom.
But oh my… it also drags down your energy.

One thing I massively underestimated: not being able to speak my own language. It’s exhausting. I wanted to learn Portuguese as fast as possible – I still do – but wow, it’s going so slow. Where are those fresh 20-something-year-old brain cells when you need them?

My first victories were small but sweet: being able to order at a restaurant, surviving a little supermarket chit chat. But real conversations? That’s where things get tough. It’s not just the vocabulary, I know that comes with time, it’s the nuance I miss. The subtle ways to express yourself in your native language.
Let’s be honest: my jokes are just funnier in Flemish. 😅

No matter how hard you try, you’ll always be a bit of an estrangeiro to the locals. That said, I’ve been lucky: many people here welcome my enthusiastic Portuguese mumbling with open arms. If you make an effort, they meet you with warmth.
But not always…

Especially with the older generation, I sometimes feel resistance.
Trying to register as a resident? Sorting out car paperwork? Health insurance?
Let’s just say… not everyone was thrilled to see me.

And honestly? I kind of get it. There’s a financial imbalance that plays in the background which only gets worse with the arrival of foreigners like me. It’s complicated.

At the same time, as a European, I also feel I have the freedom to live and work within the EU, and that goes both ways. Still, awareness and respect goes a long way.

And then there’s the social side of things.
Moving abroad all by yourself is… intense. Landing in a completely new place with no familiar faces around? It’s overwhelming.
Where do you even begin?

I tried everything. Group hikes, beach cleanups, volunteering at the local dog shelter, even helping to mark hiking trails. Anything to meet people. And I have to say; I’ve been lucky. This place has a wonderful mix of ages, backgrounds and nationalities. There’s no shortage of people to talk to, to have a drink with, to go on fun dates.

But friendship – real, soul-warming friendship – that takes time.
It doesn’t just happen overnight.

There will be days you miss your friends from home so deeply that it hurts. Days where you’d give anything to be with your family. You miss birthdays, little milestones, big celebrations.
You miss the hugs, the easy conversations, the laughing your pants off.
You miss being truly known by someone.

Emigrating is a rollercoaster. One moment you feel like a badass adventurer; the next, like a lost kid at school. And that’s okay. That’s all part of it.

No regrets. But full honesty? It’s not always just sipping wine in the sun.
Sometimes it’s sipping tea in tears, missing home.

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Thinking about moving abroad?
Do it. But pack more than your suitcase. Pack patience. Pack courage. Pack softness for yourself, especially on the lonely days.
Because those will come too. And they’re just as real as the dream.

What about you? Do you ever think about emigrating?

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